


teaching miss niima

by coffeeandcigarettesplease



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: BDSM, Dominance/submission, F/M, High School Teachers, Kinky, Modern AU, Oral Sex, PWP, Public Orgasm, Secret Relationship, Sex, Sexting, Sexual Toys, Texting, blind fold, dominant!Kylo, intercourse, safe words, submissive!rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-05 08:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeandcigarettesplease/pseuds/coffeeandcigarettesplease
Summary: High school teacher Rey is looking for excitement when she matches with Kylo on a kinky dating site. Their text relationship progresses until she’s begging to meet him - but Rey doesn’t know that Kylo is mean Mr. Solo of the science department at her high school. Ben discovers that his sweet Miss N is Rey, and fears once she learns his identity, she’ll no longer want to carry on with him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just gonna leave this here. Hope you enjoy.

**Rey**

_I’m rubbing just like you said, sir._

 

**Kylo**

_Good girl. Rub around but not directly over. I want you to tease yourself like I would be, if I were there._

 

I moan into the pillow, squeezing my eyes shut. My clit is a hard little nub that aches for attention as I edge my fingers just around it. My pussy is soaking wet and completely bare. Kylo had talked me through it earlier in the bath - now he’s telling me how to touch and enjoy the soft, velvety skin of my newly shaved cunt. My wetness leaks out easier and everything feels silken under my fingers.

 

**Kylo**

_Feel how soft you are now, sweetling._

_I wish I was there to show you how much I love your sweet, bare pussy._

 

**Rey**

_I’m already so close._

 

I pant harshly as my hips twitch under my fingers. I circle the bundle of nerves faster and faster, nudging it with the barest of touches. It feels so good - I’m hot and tingling. Somehow, texting with Kylo when I’m touching myself is ten times hotter than doing it alone. It’s thrilling, knowing that I’m working him up. That his cock is hard and he’s touching himself, thinking about me touching myself. My eyes roll back as my pussy clenches around nothing, needy.

 

**Rey**

_Please can I cum sir_

 

**Kylo**

_I suppose, you greedy little thing. I want to see._

 

Quickly, I roll onto my back and switch to the camera app. I adjust the controls so I can hold the phone over my pink pussy, so he can see everything. Months ago, I couldn’t even take a picture of my booty in shorts. Now I’m sending him a video, complete with moaning, as I rub myself to climax.

 

It doesn’t take long. My body quakes with shivers and tingles that shoot out from my most private place. My toes curl into the soles of my feet as my channel clamps down and flutters in time with my racing heart. I catch my breath as I send the short clip. I collapse against my pillow as I wait for his response.

 

**Kylo**

_You’re perfect, sweetheart. The best girl there ever was._

 

My heart feels full as I snuggle down in my blankets. I fall asleep with a grin on my face, feeling satisfied.

 

—

  


**Kylo**

_Good morning, little one._

 

**Rey**

_Good morning, sir._

 

My heart flutters as I race through my morning routine, stopping periodically - despite already running behind - to check my phone and grab a sip of coffee. It’s the first day of the school year and my stomach is knotted with nerves, but talking to Kylo helps some.

 

**Rey**

_These kids are going to eat me alive this year. I can already tell._

 

**Kylo**

_Just remember. You’re completely in control. Don’t show them any fear._

 

I nod at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Show no fear,” I mutter, rolling my hazel eyes. I look young for my age, which is twenty four. The students love to tease me, say that I’m one of them, and rarely listen to me. My hands shake as I lean forward and swipe a smear of gloss over my small mouth. I’ve tried to look older, professional - a pair of tortoise shell  glasses and my hair tied up in a high bun. My blouse is high collared and short sleeved, ruffle up the front to give the allusion of a bust, and my hips encased in a tight charcoal pencil skirt that makes me feel older. I hope it’ll manifest in some kind of confidence my students will _respect._

 

I hop in my run-down Civic and zip across town to school. I live in the mostly student apartments on the edge of town near the college campus. My floormates are new graduates, like me, but the floors below house rowdy kids that party long into the night and interrupt my sleep. It’s annoying, but the only place I can afford on my own. Teaching barely pays the bills.

 

I park in the faculty lot and grab my tote from the backseat. I had packed it weeks in advance, adding and removing what I thought I might need for my first day. Plenty of books, writing utensils, the big binder with my lesson plans and a brand new grade book. When I explained all of this to Kylo over the phone, he had chuckled and accused me of having an office supply fetish. He’s not wrong.

 

I met a Kylo on an app - and I not proud to say what it is. I blush as I remember the evening of drinking Chardonnay, bored and lonely. I’m not the type to go out to the bar, alone, to try and meet someone. I’m hardly the type to go with my friends. But sometimes, that old voice pops up… _You’ll always be alone, Rey…_ And I feel compelled to do anything to prove it wrong.

 

Kylo was the first profile I found. He lived less than five miles away and his pictures, like mine, did not reveal his face. His profile claimed for professional reasons, which combined with my utter horror at the idea of _anyone_ recognizing me from a site such as this, kept my photo posting to a minimum. A full body pic without my face, dressed modestly in an a maxi dress with cap sleeves, and then another of me from the neck down in a bikini, at the beach. You can see my long chestnut hair falling over one shoulder in a sloppy braid, but that’s it.

 

Kylo’s page was as bare as mine. A shirtless pic of what appeared to be a very large man. To say he was fit would be underselling him - he was shredded. Pounds of muscle aren’t usually my thing, but I could imagine how small I would feel pressed against that firm wall of muscular heat. It made me pant with longing, and after scanning his page to make sure he wasn’t into anything on my “hard no” list, I selected _yes_ to matching with him.

 

Almost instantly, a message had come through. I’ll never forget the heat that seared through me that _he_ had liked what he’d seen and matched with me as well.

 

**Kylo**

_Good evening, little one. I’m Kylo. Are you looking for a master?_

 

The words on my screen made slick pool in my panties. I wanted to scream and throw my phone but instead took a deep breath and mashed my thighs together.

 

**Rey**

_Good evening. I’m new to all of this- I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for. I’ve never done anything like this…_

 

**Kylo**

_That’s ok, sweetheart. I can show you._

 

And he’s made good on that promise. The past two months have flown by in a flurry of texts and phone calls that I find myself living for. The phone is never far from my hand as I go about my day.

 

I enter the high school through the science wing and curse under my breath as I see the science department head, Mr. Solo, coming towards me. He looks as _friendly_ as even in an all-black suit, jacket folded over his arm with a briefcase and coffee in his hands. At least I’m not the only one late.

 

He would be handsome, I think absently, if he weren’t so miserable looking. He’s tall, with short, dark hair that looks almost black under the the fluorescent lights. His face is unconventional with high cheekbones and deep-set, dark eyes. A long nose above full, almost feminine lips. He also wears silver framed glasses, completing the grumpy teacher look. He doesn’t look up from his phone as we cross paths.

 

“Good morning Mr. Solo,” I say, pasting on my brightest grin. At the same time, my phone vibrates, and I glance down to read the message.

 

**Kylo**

_Send me a picture of your panties, little one. I want to know what’s under teachers skirt._

 

I squeak and blush and accidentally stumble right into Mr. Solo, knocking the briefcase out of his hand and sending coffee all over his black button-down. We both freeze in place, and a humiliated blush creeps up my neck into my cheeks in the few beats of silence that follow.

 

“I’m - oh, I’m so sorry -“ My hands hover between his coffee-soaked shirt and the papers on the floor. Not wanting to touch him, I sink onto my knees and start scrambling to snatch the papers up. He breathes hard above me, nostrils flaring as he peels his shirt from his skin. I pray it wasn’t scalding hot as I organize the papers into a stack to hand back to him.

 

“Miss Niima,” he says in a cold voice.

 

“It was an accident - I’m so sorry!” I can feel hot tears pricking my eyes, and force myself to calm myself down. I _won’t_ cry in front of him, I can’t. It would just be more humiliating. Something warm settles between my thighs and I ache with more embarrassment as I shove the papers in his briefcase and hand it back to him. I can feel the heat of his gaze burning the top of my head until I glance up at him.

 

“Perhaps you should pay more attention to where you’re going, and less to that phone,” he replies, sneering at me. The tears well up and I sniffle, the tile unforgiving under my now-aching knees. But I can’t move, pinned by his brown gaze.

 

“I’m sorry, sir.” I swipe away one tear that rolls down my freckled cheek and Mr. Solo shifts, an unreadable look crossing his handsome features.

 

He opens his mouth as though to speak, but seem to think better of it. Mr. Solo strides off, leaving me on my knees, in tears, as the first bell signaling the beginning of the school year rings out.

 

——

 

**Kylo**

_Please tell me you’re having a better day than me, sweetling._

 

I pinch the bridge of my nose and settle into my desk. The room is empty during my lunch period and I need the alone time to regroup. After my altercation with Mr. Solo, I was shaken up. My first class of the day didn’t bother to pay attention as I tried to take roll and hand out the first semester syllabus. The second and third period hardly went any better.

 

It’s all Solo’s fault, I’ve decided. Had he just been a _nice_ , normal person, I wouldn’t have gotten so worked up. But he’s _not._ Ben Solo is rude, arrogant, and _unpleasant._ He might be somewhat good looking, if you like tall, dark, and handsome… but dealing with the person beneath it is downright miserable.

 

**Rey**

_Not exactly. After I had an altercation with another teacher, I’ve been off my game, sir._

 

**Kylo**

_That must be why I haven’t seen your panties yet…_

 

 _Shit!_ I’m up and wiggling my skirt quickly up my thighs. My pussy aches with need as I bend and arch to get just the right angle. My white thong is just visible between my booty cheeks, and I know that Kylo will like it. Hopefully enough not to punish me.

 

**Rey**

_I’m so sorry, sir! But this morning, your text actually kind of got me in trouble._

 

**Kylo**

_Someone saw it?_

 

**Rey**

_No, I was walking and it turned me on so much that I stumbled into a colleague. It was humiliating. I spilled coffee all over him._

 

Kylo doesn’t reply. I’m not sure what he does for work. We talk mostly about me, which doesn’t seem fair. But he insists his life is much less interesting than mine. That our arrangement is about _my needs_ , not his. I’ve tried to pry information out of him but no luck. He’s a private man.

 

**Rey**

_Did you like the picture, sir?_

 

I wait another couple of minutes and still no response. Sighing, I turn to the salad I’ve packed from home and pick a pecan out. I should be worrying about my classes coming up, but can’t tear my mind from Kylo.

 

I don’t want him to be upset with me. He never really is, but while we’ve been getting to know each other, he has set up a few rules that I love to follow as closely as I can. He says I have a praise kink - but I just like to have him call me a good girl.

 

**Rey**

_Did I do something wrong, sir?_

 

**Kylo**

_No, sweetling. You’re perfect. But you did break a rule…_

 

My pussy throbs with heat and I swallow the pecan quickly. My fingers tremble as they fly over the keyboard.

 

**Rey**

_What’s my punishment, sir?_

 

**Kylo**

_Take your panties off. Throw them in the trash. Take a picture of them in the trash so I know you’ve obeyed me._

 

My cheeks go hot and my breathing harsh but I quickly comply, sliding my thong down my legs. I toss them in the trash beside my desk and click a picture. I send it and stare at my underwear, now in the wastebasket. I throw a few papers on top to cover them up.

 

**Kylo**

_What a good girl for me. Why don’t you take a picture of what’s under your skirt now?_

 

My breath comes faster as I sit on the edge of my desk and spread my legs. The lunch hour is running out. I wonder what my students and coworkers would think if they knew what I was up to, alone in my room. I send him the picture and his response is immediate.

 

**Kylo**

_You’re perfect, little one. I could eat you up._

 

**Rey**

_Please sir. I’d like that so much. You have no idea how on edge I am lately._

 

 _Because of you,_ I add to myself. The pictures he has sent are burned in my memory. None of his dick, though I have asked - but the sizable bulge of it on various styles of pants, plenty of his shirtless chest and abs. I’ve dreamed about licking every inch of him, savoring the salt of his skin. Worshipping him with my mouth. I’ve never had such filthy thoughts before. Somehow, even though he is a stranger, I’m more than comfortable enough with Kylo to want to make all of this happen.

 

**Kylo**

_I know, sweet girl. You’ve been so good for me. Very soon, I want to do all the things we’ve talked about with you._

 

A thrill runs down my spine. He never talks about meeting up - and I haven’t been brave enough to truly discuss it. We live so close - I think it’s possible that I could have seen him around town before, that our paths have crossed. Alderaan is big, but not _that_ big. And on the site, it said we were less than five miles apart.

 

My cunt is soaked at the idea of meeting him. Finally feeling those big hands all over my body, holding me down and making me cum. The warmth of desire blooms low in my pelvis.

 

**Rey**

_I’d like that so much sir. I promise, I’ll be the best girl for you._

 

**Kylo**

_I know, sweetheart. You already are the best girl. The only girl for me._

 

I startle when the bell rings. Time for reality again.

  
  


——

  
  


I wait until the hallways are emptied of students and faculty, then head upstairs. There’s no good reason for me to be on the third floor - it’s all English and humanities classes up there, nothing to do with me or science. But my gut is telling me _I have to check._ I have to know.

 

I have a sinking suspicion that the sweet submissive I’ve been texting is none other than Miss Niima, a second year English teacher. The one that had gotten my day off to such an awful start.

 

The first day back after summer vacation is always hectic, made worse by stumbling, too-young teachers. The students are too lively and the day feels too long after spending the majority of the summer working out and doing projects around the house. I’m a man that likes things a certain way - so much so that I’m always better off doing them myself.

 

I had just texted the submissive - I know her only as Miss N - when a younger woman crashed into me. Luckily my coffee had been only like warm as it splashed over my clothing. The papers fluttered out of my briefcase and scattered over the floor.

 

Something about seeing the young teacher drop to her knees in front of me was… _stirring_ . It softened my anger, dulled it without totally extinguishing it. I wanted to do far worse than snap at her for being so clumsy and mindless until those big, tear-filled hazel eyes peered up at me. She had called me _sir_ in her apology. It made my knees weak.

 

Miss N and I are uncharacteristically quiet throughout the day. I know she teaches - she’s been vocal about the issues she has getting a handle on her students - but I’ve refrained from telling her too much. It’s not that I don’t trust her - it’s that I trust no one. A man in my position could easily be blackmailed with the kinky things I’m into. It’s better to be safe and aloof than sorry. Miss N could be lying about her age. She is thin, with high small breasts and a lovely round bottom. She could be much younger than twenty four, judging from her pictures.

 

I like her slender, coltish body. I like that she _looks_ young. But I would never cross the age of consent as a teacher. I would lose everything.

 

I’ve toyed with the idea of asking for her identification. But scoffed when I realized she might ask for mine in return.

 

When I finally get a chance to message her again, it’s my lunch period. She replies quickly, and I realize it must be her’s as well. I wonder what school she teaches at - for some reason, I imagine an elementary across town and the thought turns me on. Working around young children all day, but being a naughty girl for me via the phone. I’m a twisted man - I know this. Playfully, I ask about the panty picture I had inquired after this morning, which was never sent. We have a set of rules between us - quickly and directly replying to a request is near the top. Even if her reply is that she can’t do it for some reason. I just don’t enjoy being made to wait on edge.

 

**miss N**

_No, I was walking and it turned me on so much that I stumbled into a colleague. It was humiliating. I spilled coffee all over him_.

 

The text stops me in my tracks. I’m in my lab, sea of black top tables in front of me, half-eaten turkey sub on deli paper before me on my neat desk. I’m wearing a spare button-down I’ve packed away for such an occasion as this morning when Miss Niima spilled coffee on me. Blood roars through my ears as I connect all of the dots.

 

_Miss N is Miss Niima._

 

I don’t know for sure, but the truth seems to be right there. My heart pounds, slowly, as I stare at the attached photo she sends. Her little heart-shaped ass bent over a desk, skirt rucked up around her hips. I swallow dryly and notice the Dell computer tucked to her side. The same one that every teacher in our school has.

 

 _Miss N is Miss Niima_.

 

It has to be so. I can’t believe it - the tiny woman that went to her knees and all but cried in front of me this morning is the woman I’ve been texting for two months. The potential submissive that I was hoping to eventually play with. My stomach is uneasy as a flush colors my cheeks. I don’t know whether to feel elated - she _is_ legal, and not only that, actually very attractive from the neck up - or terrified. If she found out it was _me_ that she has been texting all this time, will she still want to continue?

 

I know my reputation around school is akin to Professor Snape from Harry Potter. Many of my colleagues don’t even like me, and make it quite clear. The female gym teacher, Mrs. Gwen Phasma, openly loathes me. I don’t mind, because it truly has no bearing on my life. Until now.

 

Have I seen Miss Niima talking with Phasma? I scroll through my brain to try and come up with a memory but find nothing. I can’t recall much about Miss Niima outside of our interaction today. She always gave the impression of being skittish, shy - fitting with what I know of her as Miss N. Of course her students don’t respect her - she looks their age and likely is too nervous to be firm with them. I shake my head as I stare at her wonderful bottom in a tiny white thong.

 

**Miss N**

_Did I do something wrong, sir?_

 

I quickly text back in the negative. No, nothing she’s done - except for ruin my shirt and not respond immediately to my earlier text. I smile at the phone and lean over it as I remind her that she’s broken a rule.

 

My dick twitches to life in my slacks. I love to play these games with Miss N - she takes it as seriously as I do. Some women over the internet only want to play submissive when it suits them. For Miss Niima, it’s as constant and easy as breathing. Hearing her voice hitch over the phone as she listens to me saying all of the dirty things I want to do to her. Watching the quick video clips she’s sent me - rubbing that precious pink pussy into oblivion - all of it is perfect. So perfect that I’m not eager to take our relationship into the real world. I’m afraid that it’ll be ruined.

 

Especially now. If she truly is my colleague, there’s no way she’ll want to continue on like this. She’ll be mortified of the things she’s shared with me. Probably won’t want to continue working at Alderaan High. I have to _make sure_ that it’s really her before I make any rash decisions.

 

**Kylo**

_Take your panties off. Throw them in the trash. Take a picture of them in the trash so I know you’ve obeyed me._

 

This is why I find myself on the third floor outside of her room. I knock - no one answers - and push the door open quietly. Though no one is there, I feel the need to tiptoe across the hardwood floor towards her desk in the rear of the room. It smells vaguely of rubber erasers and dry-erase markers, and something sweet and sugary under that. Could be a student. But my gut tells me it’s Miss Niima.

 

Someone as sweet and obedient as her _would_ smell like fresh baked cookies.

 

The trash beside her desk is ladden with papers, and I grimace as I pick through them to find what I’m looking for. It takes only a few seconds - then the scrap of thin white fabric is in my hands. I gape at it, my theory confirmed.

_Miss N is Miss Niima._

 

Before I can register than my body is moving, I press the crotch right into my nose and take a deep huff. It smells sweet and musky, what her pussy will smell like. A pang of desperate, absolute _want_ shoots through me. I can’t stop smelling her as my world spins.

 

The perfect submissive has been right under my nose this whole time. I pocket the panties for later use and pull out my phone.

 

Though I’m reluctant to admit it, I know the truth. The only satisfying way for this to end is to meet Miss Niima in person, to put it all out on the line. I need to see the rejection in her eyes to know that this perfect thing will be over. Sighing, I wonder how I can salvage it. How can I get a piece of her in real life? Desperation is giving me anxiety as I try to think through a hundred different scenarios on how to _keep_ her. How to make her _mine_ , long term.

 

I find no answers but I know I need to leave the school before I have a panic attack. I head back to my room and collect my things before exiting to the faculty parking lot and climbing in my Honda Element. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but shoot her a hopeful text. The panties are all but burning a hole in my pocket, and my cock is thickening between my legs as the seconds tick by. I’m going to cover her panties in my cum. I wish I could make her wear them soiled.

 

**Kylo**

_You are perfect, my sweet little one. Master can’t wait to reward you in person._


	2. Chapter 2

_“Please sir,” I pant, my face angled towards the nightstand where my phone rests on speaker. I can hear him chuckle, as if he’s so amused by how turned on I am. It’s pitiful - I feel so small and helpless when he gets me worked up like this. And Kylo finds it amusing - i can tell he’s smiling by the tone of his voice, that he’s pleased with me. I moan softly as I work my fingers in and out of my tight hole, aching for something much larger to stretch and fill me._

 

_“Not much longer now, little one. You’ve been so good for me,” he murmurs. I love Kylo’s voice - it heightens my arousal and I whine quietly as I follow his previous command. He wants me to rub myself until I’m so close to coming I can almost taste it - but then he wants me to stop. As I feel the contractions begin deep inside of me, I pull my hands away, reluctantly and breathe hard. “That was close, sweetling. I can tell.”_

 

 _“I just want to come,” I whimper. There are tears gathered at the corners of my eyes and my body is aching for release. I’m bent over on my hands and knees, butt sticking up in the air. Kylo has instructed me to do this. I love to follow his orders and make him happy. His voice, telling me I’m his good girl, haunts my dreams and echoes in my ears throughout the day. I find myself longing to be his good girl_ all _of the time, wishing I could come home to him after a long day of teaching._

 

_I want to wear his collar. But I keep that secret to myself, afraid of what would happen if I pushed him too far, if I got too needy._

 

_“You will, my precious girl. Touch your nipples until you’ve settled down enough to continue,” he instructs. Sighing, I slide a hand up my torso to cup one of my breasts. Will he like them? Will he think they’re too small? I’m a B cup, and with the right amount of padding and underwire I can achieve a small amount of cleavage. I wonder if how they will look in his big palms. “Does it feel good?”_

 

_“Yes, sir,” I hiss. “My nipples are so sensitive right now.”_

 

_“Your body is aroused, Miss N. Of course they’re sensitive.” I can hear an edge to his voice that only comes out when he’s touching himself. Imagining those big hands wrapped around his cock, it makes me feel weak. I need release, as soon as possible, and whine out as much to Kylo’s delight. “All right, little one. Go ahead and touch that sweet little cunt again. Rub your clit for me, sweetheart. Let me hear you come.”_

 

Finally _, I think with relief. I use my free hand to flick over my clit, gathering moisture from where it leaks out of my body to lubricate the bundle of nerves. I roll it around like an olive soaked in oil, mewling softly as the sensations overwhelm me. Kylo grunts and I can imagine him, listening to me pleasure myself. It’s a good thought - my body clenches greedily. Not too much longer…_

 

_“Please, sir,” I whimper. “Please, I need to come.”_

 

_“You know what to do,” Kylo rasps. “Tell me.”_

 

_“I’m so wet,” I whisper - loud enough for him to hear me over speaker but much softer than before. “My pussy is soaked. I feel tingles every time I rub over one spot - it feels so good, I can’t keep touching it. It’s - it’s too much if I don’t -”_

 

_“Keep touching it,” Kylo commands._

 

_“Sir!” I exclaim as I follow his command. The muscles in my legs twitch as I mash my fingers against my clit and my channel begins to flutter. “I’m - I’m going to come, sir!”_

 

_“That’s it, my good girl. Come for me, Miss N. Let me hear you,” he adds softly. I whine and moan as my body explodes in a fit of shivering tingles that race up my spine. My eyes roll back at the intensity of it, and my toes curl into the soles of my feet. I love coming with Kylo - he makes everything so much better. Masturbating on my own has lost all appeal. Plus, I’m only supposed to come with him. I tell him every time I’m touching myself, and he helps me through it._

 

 _“Thank you, sir,” I murmur once my body is back under control. I don’t know if he’s come yet, but I feel exhausted. I lie limply in my bed, panting. It feels so good, just talking to him. I wonder how it will feel when we eventually meet -_ if _we eventually meet. I want to so badly, I’ve never wanted anything more._

 

_“Of course, my girl. Go to sleep now. You have a long day of teaching tomorrow,” Kylo reminds me. As if I could forget._

 

_“Goodnight, sir.”_

 

_“Goodnight, Miss N.”_

  
  


\--

  
  


**Kylo**

_I have something for you. Where can I send you a present?_

 

**Rey**

_I don’t need a present, sir!_

 

**Kylo**

_You’ve been a very good girl. I want to show you my appreciation as well as reward good behavior. It’s something I will enjoy as much as you._

 

I bite my lip and blush as my students gossip and chatter. They’re supposed to be analyzing Hamlet in small groups but I can hear there is only one dedicated conversation, and it’s devolved into whether or not ghosts are real and if Hamlet had hallucinations. Shaking my head, I return to my phone.

 

Kylo has mentioned gifts before but, like most guys, I figured was just talk. I’m fortunate to have a PO Box thanks to living in an apartment, and feel confident in giving him the address. At least it doesn’t lead directly to my front door.

 

**Kylo**

_I’ll have it express shipped._

 

**Rey**

_You don’t have to do all of that…_

 

**Kylo**

_I think I’m capable of deciding what you deserve. Unless you think you know better?_

 

There is an undertone to his text that makes heat bloom on my cheeks and between my thighs. I squeeze them together and press my palm to my burning face. Why does everything he says affect me so strongly? Am I just weak, or is this attraction so combustible?

 

**Rey**

_Of course, sir. I’m just not used to getting presents or being treated… well, well._

 

**Kylo**

_Get used to it, sweetling._

 

My body flushes from the roots of my hair to the soles of my feet. I have to put my phone away before I say or do something silly.

  
  


 

 

The days pass in a blur of teaching. I dream that I’m ill prepared for class and the students overrun me. I text Kylo and tell him all my worries; somehow, his soothing voice when he insists on calling to talk about it calms me. It’s terrifying, how dependent I’ve grown on him. It feels like I can do anything, with him behind me.

 

But I don’t even _know_ him and that’s what scares me. It feels like I do, like he knows me too. Better and deeper than anyone else. But I couldn’t pick him out of a line up. I wouldn’t even know if I passed him on the street. It makes my stomach knot with anxiety when I think about it.

 

Thursday evening I come home from work and check my mailbox. A fat white package is jammed inside and takes a bit of wiggling before I free it. I turn it over in my hands - Miss N, along with my address, is printed in the neatest handwriting I’ve ever seen - something about it is familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Smiling, I let myself into my apartment and find a knife to cut through the packing tape - but not before texting Kylo.

 

**Rey**

_It’s here!_

 

**Kylo**

_Open it, little one. Tell me what you think._

 

I follow his order and slice open the outside packaging to reveal a smaller purple box. I lift the lid and nestled in bubble wrap is a tiny silver bullet. A vibrator. As I hold it in my palm it suddenly buzzes to life, making me squeak in surprise.

 

**Kylo**

_I want you to wear this tomorrow. I have an app that controls it. Can you do that for me, little one?_

 

My cunt clenches greedily. I can’t imagine it - wearing the vibrator inside of me all day at school? What if - I blush crimson and cover my face with my free hand - I come in front of my students?

 

But the challenge is there. I want to please him so badly. I want him to call me his good girl and let me come. I want him to be so happy with me that he _finally_ asks to meet and see if our chemistry works as well in person.

 

**Rey**

_Yes, sir. Anything for you._

 

I hold the weight of the little toy in my hand with desire in my pelvis and worry in my head.

  
  
  


——

  
  


The teachers’ lounge is crowded with all of us packed in at once. I lean against the door frame, where I can easily see Miss Niima sitting at one of the round tables. She’s tinkering on her phone and shifting in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. I smirk to myself, pulling my phone from the breast pocket of my shirt.

 

I have her toy turned on low - it’s been mostly low all day. A constant buzz in her cunt to remind her who she belongs to. I only raise the intensity between classes and at lunch, when she’s alone in her classroom. I imagine she must be overstimulated by now, soaking wet panties and half-way mad by the constant barrage of sensation. She’s come only once, at lunch, with my permission. But I know Rey has been fighting the urge all day.

 

Principal Holdo rambles at the head of the room while the rest of us listen half-heartedly. I drag my finger over the controls for Rey’s you and watch as she twitches in her seat. No one seems to notice. _Good._

 

I am enjoying seeing her face as she struggles against the vibrations. She’s flushed bright pink and she bites her full bottom lip. The loose wisps of hair that escape her three-bun hairstyle cling to her forehead and cheeks. I can imagine her beneath me, slender body filled with my hardened length, debauched.

 

I crank the setting a bit higher and swear I can hear her whimper. She shoots a fragile, apologetic look to the older instructor on her right and folds over the desk, pillowing her head on her arms. That won’t do.

 

**Kylo**

_How does it feel, little one?_

 

She fumbles for her phone and sits up, slouching in the seat. I can see her squeezing her thighs together as she types back in response.

 

**Miss N**

_It is a very bad time but it feels incredible_

_I’m in a meeting_

_Please sir_

 

**Kylo**

_Can you be a good girl and take it?_

 

I watch her eyelids flutter shut and she blows out a long breath. She’s getting pinker by the minute and my dick twitches, aching to fill her. I want to make her come with my mouth and my fingers and my cock so badly, it’s overwhelming. Heat lances through me as I wait for her.

 

**Miss N**

_I can be a good girl for you sir_

 

**Kylo**

_You may come whenever you can, sweetling._

_Think of my hard cock stretching you open_

_My hands on your little breasts_

_My tongue on your clit_

_Let go, little one, and think of me_

 

She shivers and I can see how her hands tremble across the crowded room. If only our coworkers had any idea what we are up to - if only _she_ knew her master is right across the room. She clenches small hands into white knuckle fists and takes it, takes everything I throw at her. She is perfection. Made just for me.

 

I turn the controls up all the way. I watch as she jerks in her seat. Her chest hitches and she bites her lip hard. I can only imagine her sweet, pink pussy and how hard it’s gripping her toy. I long for the day when it will be mine. When I can own in, in person. Leave her leaking my spend. Put a collar around her throat.

 

I can tell she’s about to come when she holds her breath. She always does that over voice chat. And then she folds in half, legs squeezed tight together, hips undulating just barely in her seat. It creaks under her movement. I take pity on her and cut the vibe off. Though I can’t see her face, I know she’s likely grateful.

 

**Miss N**

_Thank you sir. That was… exhilarating._

 

**Kylo**

_The pleasure is mine._

 

**Miss N**

_I wish we could do it together, in person._

 

**Kylo**

_Me too, little one. Me too._


End file.
